


and i don’t have a reason to be (if i can’t be with you)

by Schocker



Category: Fifth Harmony (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, F/F, Fluff, i have no godly idea what this is, u know happy apocalypse funtimes followed by misery and then more funtimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 09:06:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5961798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schocker/pseuds/Schocker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Lauren thinks to herself, she’s just too damn compassionate.</p><p>Like right now, when she drives her trusty axe directly into the brain of one of the infected.</p><p> </p><p>Or: The world crumbles to pieces and Lauren's just trying to keep it all together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and i don’t have a reason to be (if i can’t be with you)

It’s blindingly bright outside.

But that might be because it’s first time Lauren’s left her shelter in days. It’s just dangerous now, is all, even though the streets have been mostly empty for months.

If she cranes her neck hard enough, she can just see the tip of the church on the next street over where people flocked to the first few days after the virus struck. It’s also, coincidentally, where Lauren made her first kill.

It was frightening – horrifying – and even though Lauren’s killed plenty of others since, that’s the one she has nightmares about. Camila had been scared, too –

Lauren shakes the thought from her brain. Thinking about Camila makes her too sad, too withdrawn, and that’ll kill her sooner than anything else.

The little drugstore Lauren is in has been mostly wiped clean, but there are still a few beat up cans of ravioli that she stuffs in her bag. She only makes it a few steps out of the store when she hears it.

A loud, rattling breath and shuffling, dragging feet.

She turns very slowly – they don’t react well to sudden movements, she’s learned – and there it is.

She knows him. Or she used to anyway. He was her history professor in the class she was taking when the whole world ended. Dr. Simons was kind, funny, a good lecturer – Lauren really doesn’t want to kill him.

(He’s already dead, technically, but that doesn’t stop the weird niggling feeling in her gut when she has to bash in the brains of someone she used to know.)

He’s just standing now, staring emptily at a car. He’s decomposed enough for Lauren to relax a little; whatever bit him isn’t still lingering around. He’s got the typical look of those infected by the virus: hunched shoulders, fingers gnarled into claws, sunken cheeks and eyes. He’s got dried guts on the front of his shirt, which means he probably hasn’t eaten in a while. He’s hungry, and that’s bad news for Lauren.

She carefully slides her hands down the emergency axe she stole from a hotel nearly two years ago (the night of her first kill) and grips comfortably at the worn handle.

Maybe she can get away without a fight. There may be only one infected that she can see, but avoiding the fight was always the best way to survive – it’s how she’s survived nearly two years (and the last few months on her own).

She takes a slow, hesitant step backwards.

_Crunch._

Simons’ head snaps towards her in an instant. Lauren takes off, the glass under her feet scattering as she does.

Unlike every horror movie that Lauren was so fond of pre-apocalypse, these zombies aren’t supernaturally fast or strong. They run only as fast as the person they used to be could run. They also tended to be a little more uncoordinated – clumsy, even.

Lauren hates to use that word, though – _zombie._ She used to wonder (complain) to Camila about zombie movies.

“We all know they’re zombies,” Lauren would say. “Why do they just make up some other term when we have a word specifically for this use?”

Camila would tell her to shut up and throw a pillow at her.

Lauren gets it now, though. Calling them zombies makes her feel like she’s in some weird, sadistic parody of real life. Like the whole world is mocking her, saying, _“Zombies? Really? That’s what you’re going with?”_

But maybe that’s not Lauren’s most pressing concern right now.

She’s sprinting down an alleyway, trying to get back to the shelter she’s been holing up in for weeks. Simons may not be able to catch up to her, but he’s definitely staying on her tail.  She probably won’t be able to haul herself up the ladder before she’s caught.

Impulsively (stupidly), Lauren spins on her heel and grips her axe tightly. Simons doesn’t slow, not that she expected him to, and Lauren takes a deep, steadying breath. She’s only got one good shot.

Simons gets within feet of her, his arms outstretched and his mouth agape, and Lauren grunts as she swings her axe around, driving it directly into its brain.

Simons drops to the ground instantly, lifeless (again).

Lauren’s breathing hard as she yanks her axe back out, grimacing at the noises that emits. She may have been doing this for a long time, but that doesn’t make it any less disgusting.

She doesn’t really want to just leave the rotting corpse of one of her favorite professors lying in an alleyway just below where she sleeps, but if Lauren’s learned anything over the last couple of years, it’s that she can’t always get what she wants.

Her aim is practiced and accurate; she tosses her axe up with ease. She just barely makes the jump to reach up and grab the bottom of the fire escape ladder, which is good because that means none of the infected can get up either. She’s seen a couple of them manage to scale ladders – probably muscle memory from when they were still alive – and it’s enough to make her wary.

The apartment she crawls into is tiny. There are a few flashlights in one corner (some dead, some not) along with a couple of candles. There’s water bottles scattered around, and Lauren frowns when she notes that almost all of them are empty. She’ll have to go out tomorrow to get some more.

Most notably in the dingy little room, there are books _everywhere_. Overflowing off of bookshelves, stacked haphazardly along the walls. Lauren’s glad there are so many books, because she’s been alone for a while now and they’re better than sitting and waiting to go insane.

“End of the world, people eating each other, and I die of boredom,” Lauren mutters to herself with a laugh. That’s something else she’s been doing for the past few months. Talking to herself. She just needs to hear someone speak, _anyone_ speak. The infected only growl and hiss and moan – it’s nice to hear words.

The bland, canned ravioli tastes better than anything Lauren’s had in days. She reads one of the books until the sun sets and spends a few minutes considering lighting a candle or using a flashlight to keep reading.

She ends up just staring out the window. She’s not sure if the stars are brighter than they used to be, but after nearly two years, maybe the air has cleared up.

One hundred and forty-nine days. She’s kept count. That’s how long it’s been since she’s seen Camila. And she misses her more and more with each day that passes.

 

_“I’m scared,” Camila says. She doesn’t sound very scared when she says it, though. She just sounds very sure._

_“I am, too,” Lauren says. There’s no point in pretending otherwise. Not when the world is crumbling around them._

_“It’s not so bad though,” Camila says after a minute._

_Lauren can’t help the scoff that escapes her. “The dead rising from their graves to kill the living. I’m not seeing a bright side here.”_

_“I didn’t have to take my calculus final,” Camila says cheerfully._

_Lauren laughs so loud that it brings an infected to rattle their door._

 

Water is something that’s always been a concern, even since the first days. Going without food for a few days (something Lauren is familiar with) sucks and it’s hard, but it won’t kill you. A few days without water, though…

The stores haven’t had any water for over a year. Lauren spends most of her time breaking into apartments. The only downside to that is that she often stumbles across people who decided they didn’t want to deal with the world going to hell. The smell, after so long, is nearly always overwhelming.

She gathers a few bottles, but not as much as she’d like. She’s hungry and she’s got enough food saved up to treat herself to lunch.

The quiet is something Lauren can honestly say she detests. She thought she wanted quiet, back when the world was still the world. Lauren thinks she’d give anything to hear car horns, and jumbo jet, sirens, _anything_. When she wasn’t alone, it wasn’t as bad. Someone to talk to – it made a world of a difference.

“What I wouldn’t give for a different world,” Lauren mumbles as she turns the corner by her apartment.

Something crashes just outside the other end of the alley. It’s bad news; noise draws these things in like moths to a flame. Lauren should just go up to her safe house, eat her old ravioli, and read one of the newer novels she’s found.

Instead, Lauren grips her axe tighter and moves down the alley in a crouch, her sneakers silent on the ground. She leaves her bag at the mouth of the alley and stills, waiting.

She hears a few telltale snarls – no more than two or three – and she very nearly books it back down the alley.

But then she hears a grunt of effort and a _crack!_

Lauren peaks around the alley and spots another girl. She’s young, probably Lauren’s age, and her hair is blonde with brown roots long enough that Lauren can see them from a distance. She’s holding a baseball bat, which is good if she’s only facing one or two infected, but she’s got three shuffling towards her right now.

Lauren has no idea who this girl his. She doesn’t know if she’s all alone out here, or if she’s the kind that might kill Lauren in her sleep, or if she’s got family she’s fighting to get back to. Lauren has absolutely no reason to step in and help this girl.

The girl hits another one with her bat and it staggers backwards before creeping back in with a dislocated jaw.

Sometimes, Lauren thinks to herself, she’s just too damn compassionate.

Like right now, when she drives her trusty axe directly into the brain of one of the infected.

The girl gives her a wide eyed look, but she knocks back one of the other infected as it lunges for Lauren.

Lauren yanks her axe back and swings at another one, knocking out its leg and then taking its head off. The other girl hits the last one, and it falls to the ground, no longer moving.

“I’m Dinah,” the girl introduces herself. She’s awfully perky for someone near death only seconds before. She offers Lauren her hand to shake.

The infected on the ground, the one Dinah had just hit, lunges abruptly. Lauren knocks Dinah aside, holding up her axe to protect herself. The infected bites down on the handle mere inches from Lauren’s fingers and she falls back, immensely grateful that the stupid thing can’t really aim. She hits the ground hard, her teeth rattling in her skull, and she cries out when she feels glass dig into her back.

Dinah’s bat knocks the infected off and she beats at it until its brains are sufficiently scattered around its skull. Then it’s silent again, only loud breathing filling the air.

“Lauren.”

“What?” Dinah pants.

“My name. It’s Lauren.”

“Lauren,” Dinah repeats with a grin. “You saved my bacon just now, girl.”

Lauren doesn’t really know what to say, so she just nods. She sits up slowly, wincing as her back protests.

“Hey, whoa, you’re bleeding,” Dinah says worriedly, staring at Lauren’s back.

“Figured,” Lauren grunts. “Think I landed in some glass.”

Dinah’s quiet for a second, like she’s thinking very hard. Then she says, “You should come with me. I’ve got medical supplies and… a medical person.”

“Medical person,” Lauren repeats faintly. She’s starting to get a little woozy. “I don’t even know you. You don’t know me. Why should I trust you?”

Dinah shrugs. “You _did_ just save my life. Guess that means I owe you one, huh?”

Lauren doesn’t really have a better option right now. Her back is definitely torn up, and letting it get infected is not something she wants to do.

“Okay,” Lauren decides. “Let’s go see your medical person.”

-

Dinah half supports Lauren as they go down the street. Lauren can walk, sure, but the balance part is very difficult when you’re losing blood and you’ve hit your head.

Dinah tries to make small talk while they move. It’s weird, mostly because Lauren hasn’t had anyone to talk to in a while.

“So…” Dinah drags the word out. She’s carrying both her and Lauren’s bags over her shoulders with no problem. “Out here all by yourself?”

“Yep,” Lauren answers shortly.

“That’s cool, that’s cool,” Dinah nods. “I’m with a group – we’re not big, though. Only four of us, but that’s all we really need.”

It’s quiet for a moment and Lauren sighs internally. Dinah _is_ kind of saving her ass right now, Lauren can at least humor her.

“How long have you been a group?”

Dinah brightens at the question. “Well it was three of us at first, we were all friends from, y’know, before.”

“Before the zombie apocalypse?” Lauren asks dryly.

“Yeah!” Dinah says cheerfully. “And then we kind of picked up another girl, like, five months ago. Actually, I’m the one that brought her in.”

“Taking in strays,” Lauren jokes weakly. “Seems to be your specialty.”

Dinah gives her a wink. “Lucky for you.”

When Dinah leads her into a giant hotel, Lauren’s not really sure what to make of it.

(Well, she can clearly see it’s a very _fancy_ hotel, the kind that celebrities might have stayed at years ago.)

There’s a padlock on the iron gate that keeps them from getting in, but Dinah tugs a key on a chain from around her neck and unlocks it. The actual front entrance has half collapsed, leaving an extremely narrow passage. Lauren has to wobble through it without the assistance of Dinah, who has to remove the bags from her shoulder in order to fit. It’s an effective barrier – no infected would be able to carefully move through the space.

By the time they end up in the lobby, Lauren’s exhausted and she wants to sleep for a year or two.

It must be written on her face, because Dinah gives her a sympathetic smile and says, “Almost there.”

They climb four flights of stairs, pausing to ensure that Lauren doesn’t pass out on the way up, before they end up in a little meeting area.

“Hey, Smalls!” Dinah’s voice echoes down the hall.

A door opens and a girl, who is indeed small, walks out, only to freeze as she takes in Lauren leaning up against Dinah.

“Um,” Lauren says, “hi?”

“Hi,” the other girl says back. “I’m Ally. Who are you?”

“This is Lauren,” Dinah says. “And she totally saved my ass earlier. Do you think you could dig the glass out of her back?”

Dinah’s so calm and relaxed about it. Ally looks a little startled.

“Sure,” Ally says. “Let’s take her to one of the empty rooms.”

-

The sheets are very soft. Softer than anything Lauren’s felt in quite some time.

“Hope you’re not shy,” Ally jokes. “I’m gonna need you to take your shirt off.”

Lauren does it without complaint. Modesty kind of goes out the window when the world ends. The ring she keeps on a chain clatters back to her chest and she rubs her fingers over it habitually.

“This is gonna hurt,” Ally says, sounding apologetic.

Lauren gasps when she feels the tweezers pull out the first bit of glass. It goes into a little dish next to Ally with a _tink_.

Lauren feels like she should say something.

_Tink._

“So what exactly makes you qualified to do this?” Lauren asks. She winces a little, because she kind of sounds ungrateful, but Ally laughs. It’s a nice sound that makes Lauren want to smile.

“I was in med school. You know, before.”

 _Tink_.

“Wow,” Lauren says. “What did you want to be?”

“A pediatrician.”

“You like kids, then?”

 _Tink_.

“Love them. Couldn’t wait to have my own someday.”

“You still might,” Lauren says quietly. “Humans seem to have a knack for sticking around.”

“Didn’t take you for an optimist,” Ally says lightly.

 _Tink_.

“I’m not, really,” Lauren says. “That was always –” she cuts herself off.

Ally doesn’t mention it.

 _Tink_.

“I think those are all the big ones. You should shower, get the little bits out.”

“Shower?” Lauren asks, like it’s some kind of foreign word. “You have running water?”

“Actually,” Ally grins as she walks around the bed to face Lauren, “we have _hot_ running water.”

That’s really all the convincing Lauren needs. Ally tells her how it all works – the lake nearby that supplies their water, the generators hooked up to solar panels installed just before the world collapsed, the abundant clean water they have as a result.

Ally helps carefully remove the bits of glass left before she leaves Lauren to it. Lauren stays for probably much longer than she should, but it just feels _so good_. She hasn’t had a shower in forever, let alone a _hot_ one.

Ally’s waiting for her when she gets out. She gives Lauren some fresh clothes, but Lauren’s not allowed to put her shirt on until Ally’s put ointment on her cuts and wrapped her back.

“Hospitals were goldmines after everyone was gone,” Ally says. “We’ve got plenty of medical supplies. Probably more than we need.”

Lauren hums and nods. She’s tired now, the shower making her sleepy. She forgot that she used to only shower at night, because showering in the morning made her drowsy. It’s nice. To remember.

“Can I ask you something?” Ally’s voice is quiet. She just finished wrapping Lauren’s back, which thankfully didn’t need any stitches.

“Sure,” Lauren says. It’d be stupid of her to say no, after all Ally’s done for her.

“Whose ring is that around your neck?”

Lauren’s fingers go to the cool metal instinctively. She rubs at it and frowns.

“It’s mine, I guess. But… it’s a promise ring. There’s one to match it,” Lauren says.

Ally squints at it, but Lauren’s pretty much rubbed the pattern off over time.

“Where’s the matching one?” Ally asks.

Lauren stares down at the ring. “I don’t know. I don’t know where she is.”

Ally rests her hand on Lauren’s knee sympathetically. Not knowing is worse than anything else. When they’re dead at least, you can mourn. But when they’re just… not there. That’s the hardest.

Ally doesn’t say _I’m sorry._ No one does anymore. Sorry doesn’t bring back the people you love.

“You should rest,” Ally says. “I’ll come check on you in the morning.”

Lauren curls up on her side. She clutches the ring in her fist and tries not to think about Camila and how much she misses her.

-

_“You are such an asshole,” Camila glares._

_Lauren laughs. “I’m sorry, Camz, but rules are rules.”_

_Camila scowls and draws four cards, grumbling all the while._

_“I change the color to green,” Lauren adds._

_Camila shoots her an incredulous look. “Now you’re just messing with me!” she cries._

_“Don’t pout,” Lauren says. “Uno is a great way to bond us together in these hard times.”_

_“Can’t believe there’s fuckin’ zombies outside and I’m getting my ass handed to me in Uno,” Camila complains._

_“It could be worse,” Lauren says. “A zombie could be beating you at Uno.”_

_“Shut up.”_

-

“Good morning, sunshine!” Dinah knocks the door open and jars Lauren from her sleep. “It’s time for breakfast.”

“Ugh, Jesus,” Lauren rubs at her eyes. She’s not really a morning person.

“Nope, it’s just me, Dinah Jane,” Dinah chirps. “C’mon, Lauser, rise and shine.”

“Lauser?”

“Yeah, Lauren and loser. Anyway, you better hurry before Ally eats all the Cheerios.”

Lauren groans and drags herself out of bed.

Ally’s very perky when Lauren arrives.

(Lauren’s starting to think these two are never not perky.)

“When are Mani and Chancho coming back?” Dinah asks through a mouthful of Cheerios.

“Should be back tomorrow afternoon,” Ally says. She turns to Lauren. “They went out to make sure the pumps at the lake are still running smoothly. We like having plenty of water.”

Lauren’s still, like, half-asleep, so all she says is, “You have a friend named ‘Pig’?”

Dinah laughs. “Nah, that’s just what I call her.”

Lauren nods, shoving more cereal into her mouth. They have powdered milk stocked somewhere, so she’s actually having real cereal, even if it’s a little warm.

Ally rewraps her back after breakfast.

“You’re lucky none of them needed stitches,” Ally says.

“Lucky me,” Lauren mumbles.

-

She spends most of the day following Dinah around like a lost puppy. There’s a massive recreation center a few floors up that Dinah invites Lauren to play racquetball in while Ally forbids Lauren from playing racquetball in the next second.

“I just fixed your back,” Ally says sternly, hands on her hips. “I’m not gonna let you wreck it.”

 _“Fine,”_ Dinah whines, like she was the one who was being scolded.

So Lauren spends an hour watching Dinah attempt to play racquetball by herself. It’s the hardest she’s laughed in months.

“You’re fun,” Dinah declares, wiping the sweat from her brow. “I think we’ll keep you.”

Lauren raises her eyebrows. “Keep me? What makes you so certain I want to stay?”

“C’mon, Lauser,” Dinah cocks her hip and rests a fist on it. “Tons of hot water? Medical supplies? _Food?_ You’d be an idiot not to stay.”

Lauren stares at Dinah. “Why do you want me to stay?”

Dinah shrugs. “Plenty of reason. There’s strength in numbers. You’re obviously handy with an axe. I’ve been living with the same three people for forever and would like fresh meat. Take your pick.”

Lauren shakes her head. “I’m just another drain on your supplies, and you don’t know anything about me. I could steal everything you have and leave in the middle of the night.”

“You won’t do that,” Dinah says confidently.

“How can you be so sure?” Lauren challenges.

“You’re lonely,” Dinah says simply.

Lauren feels like Dinah just popped her, and all of her air is rushing out. It’s quiet for a few seconds.

“What?” Lauren croaks.

“You’re lonely,” Dinah says again. “Out there in the world all by yourself. Ally said you used to have someone but she’s gone.”

“You don’t know that,” Lauren interrupts harshly. “You don’t know she’s dead. She’s… we got separated.”

Dinah cocks her head. Her voice goes softer, gentler than Lauren has heard. “How?”

Lauren sighs harshly. “A couple months ago. There was a big group, a lot bigger than we’d seen in a while. They had us cornered in a little store, so I told her to wait. I would lead the group away and come back for her. She told me not to, but I insisted.”

Dinah’s silent, and she’s listening with rapt attention. Lauren’s fingers go to her ring. She’s not really sure why Dinah’s listening to her sob story. Everyone’s got one at this point. She hasn’t had it any better or worse than anyone else.

That doesn’t make it hurt any less.

“I drew the group away, but… I got cut off, I couldn’t make it back to her. I had to wait all night for the group to disperse, and when I went back to the store… she was gone.”

Lauren can still remember the last time she saw Camila. Her eyes were bright and shiny with desperation. She clung to Lauren, begging her not to go. And Lauren had kissed her one last time before she took off.

“It’s not good to be alone,” Dinah says suddenly. “It’s not human nature. If you’re all by yourself, just wandering and surviving, what makes you any different than them?”

Lauren’s quiet for a while after that. Dinah doesn’t say anything else, just bounces the racquet ball up and down.

“I’ll stay,” Lauren says.

Dinah cheers and wraps her in a hug.

-

“Good luck convincing Mani,” is all Ally says when Dinah tells her Lauren is staying.

“We call her Manibear for a reason,” Dinah says. “Because she’s like a teddy bear!”

“Is that why?” Ally mutters under her breath. She smiles at Lauren, though. “I’m glad you decided to stay here with us.”

“Five is a good number,” Dinah agrees, then she gasps. “We should form a band.”

“That’s what you said when there were only three of us,” Ally laughs. “And then when there were four of us.”

“They’re all good numbers,” Dinah shrugs. “Except six, six is too many. Five is just right. We can call ourselves One Direction.”

“I think that’s already a band,” Lauren says amusedly.

“What, are they gonna get their zombie lawyers to sue us?” Dinah demands.

“Careful, Dinah,” Lauren says seriously. “Wouldn’t want to end up in zombie jail.”

Ally snorts and Dinah laughs. Lauren’s kind of glad she agreed to stay.

 

_“Do you ever wonder how different things would be if we never met?”_

_Camila’s voice is quiet and soft. Lauren only hears it because they’re curled together so closely._

_“Sometimes,” Lauren murmurs. “I don’t like to think about it.”_

_“I think about it,” Camila says. “It just reminds me how lucky I am to have you. To be with you.”_

_“Are you just saying this because I knocked the head off an infected that almost pinned you today?” Lauren tries to joke weakly._

_Camila shakes her head. “I mean you’re my reason to stay alive. You’re why I fight so hard. Why I survive. I’m so grateful to have you.”_

_Lauren’s quiet for a few seconds. “I’m grateful for you, too. No matter what happens, I love you and I always will.”_

_“I love you, too, Lauren.”_

_Silence. Something growls loudly outside their boarded up window._

_“You know, this intense devotion might not be healthy,” Lauren says lightly._

_Camila snorts. “There are flesh eating monsters outside, I think a little codependence is the least of our worries.”_

-

“Get up!”

Lauren groans as Dinah rips the curtains open. Maybe she should find a room that doesn’t face the east so the sunrise doesn’t blind her every morning.

“What?” Lauren croaks.

“We’re going out today, you and me,” Dinah declares.

“I think it’s ‘you and I’,” Lauren grumbles.

Dinah flips her hair. “Whatever. Get dressed, we’re leaving after breakfast.”

Ally made oatmeal with cinnamon, and it’s the most flavorful thing Lauren’s had in a while (which is a little sad).

“Where are we going, exactly?” Lauren asks.

Dinah walks out of one room with a pistol in her hand. She checks the ammunition, the tucks it into the holster on her belt before she hands Lauren her axe.

“Did you have that the other day?” Lauren asks.

“Yeah,” Dinah shrugs. “They’re too loud, though. Try to only use them in case of emergency.”

“You didn’t think being outnumbered by infected was an emergency?” Lauren deadpans.

“Well, I was _about_ to pull it out, but then some crazy chick with an axe appeared out of nowhere,” Dinah grins. “You had some kind of shelter before, right?”

Lauren just rolls with the subject change. “Yeah.”

“Then we’re going to go salvage whatever you need and come back. Since you’re staying here and all.”

Lauren thinks about what she has left in the shabby little apartment she’d been holing up in.

“All I had were some books, food, and an empty gun,” she recalls.

“We have bullets for that gun,” Dinah says brightly. “You know what they say, you can never have too many guns.”

“You sound like an old white guy from Texas,” Lauren mutters as they ease through the cramped passage to leave the hotel.

“Ally’s from Texas,” Dinah says randomly, like it’s a fun fact. “So is Normani, you’ll meet her later.”

“Where are you from?” Lauren asks while Dinah unlocks the gate.

“Cali,” Dinah grins proudly. “Orange County.”

Lauren hums. “I’m from Florida. Miami.”

“Walz is from Miami, too!” Dinah grins. “You’ll also meet her later.”

“Are Chancho and Walz the same person?” Lauren wonders.

“Yeah,” Dinah shrugs, but she doesn’t elaborate. Lauren rolls her eyes, but she lets it go; she’ll meet whoever this girl is later.

The walk there is pretty quiet. They don’t encounter any of the infected, which is great. Lauren stuffs her books and meager food into her bag, handing Dinah her empty gun.

“I’d put some bullets in it and give it right back,” Dinah says, “but this takes a different bullet than my gun. We have more back at the hotel, though.”

They skillfully avoid confrontation with the few infected they come across. The detours result in them not getting back to the hotel until the sun is almost set.

“I wonder if the other two are back yet,” Dinah wonders aloud as they approach the gate.

Lauren watches behind them as Dinah unlocks it and they move in.

Dinah moves right down the claustrophobic little path. Lauren’s backpack is much heavier than it was leaving, and she struggles to balance it in one hand with her axe in the other. She grimaces at the reddish-blackish goop on her weapon; she’s going to need to clean it.

“–bring in random strays, Dinah Jane!”

“She saved my life, Mani, she got _hurt_ saving me. I figured it was the least I could do,” Dinah’s voice echoes as Lauren inches down the pathway. Her other friends must have gotten back.

“We don’t even know her,” the voice who must be Normani says.

“She’s really nice,” Ally pipes in.

Lauren finally pops out of the little path, stumbling until Dinah pulls her upright.

“See, here she is. This is –”

 _“Lauren_.”

Lauren’s head snaps around and her heart stops beating. Her bag slips from her hand and her axe clatters to the ground, the sound echoing in the massive lobby.

It’s Camila. Standing only a few feet away, looking like she’s seen a ghost. Lauren shuffles forward half a step almost instinctively. No one else is speaking, or maybe Lauren just can’t hear them, all of her focus on Camila.

“Camila,” Lauren croaks. _“Camz_.”

That breaks the barrier between them and Camila practically leaps into Lauren’s arms, clinging to her so tightly that Lauren can hardly breathe. Lauren’s hugging her back just as tightly, a slightly hysterical laugh escaping her. They hold each other for what feels like forever, rocking back in forth in place.

“I thought you were dead,” Camila says when she finally pulls back, her voice shaking and her eyes shining with tears. She reaches up and traces Lauren’s face with trembling fingers. “I thought you were _dead_.”

“Takes more than a few zombies to kill me, Camz,” Lauren says. “You know that.”

“You hate that word,” Camila hiccups.

Lauren shrugs and rests her forehead against Camila’s. They’re still holding each other, and Lauren knows all the other girls are still there but she really can’t bring herself to care.

“I’ve missed you,” Lauren says quietly.

“I missed you, too,” Camila says.

Abruptly, Camila pulls out of the hug and shoves Lauren so hard that Lauren staggers backwards.

“Camila?” she splutters.

“You said you’d be _right back!_ ” Camila cries, her hands balling into fists. She shoves at Lauren again. “‘Stay here, Camz, I’ll be right back! I promise!’” Another shove. “Well, you _didn’t come back!_ ”

Lauren doesn’t know what to say. Camila’s still standing in front of her, chest heaving, eyes glazed with tears.

“I’m sorry,” Lauren finally stammers. “I tried. I tried to come back, Camila, you _know_ I did.”

“You should have tried _harder!”_ Camila’s fists shove against Lauren again, but she doesn’t pull away after. She stands, her hands still balled up and pressed to Lauren’s chest. “You should have tried harder,” she says again. She doesn’t sound angry anymore, just tired. Sad.

Lauren’s hands come up and cover Camila’s. “You’re right,” she murmurs. “I should’ve tried harder. And I’ve regretted it every day since it happened.” One of her hands cups Camila’s cheek and wipes away the tear sliding down it. “Do you forgive me?”

Camila lets out a little laugh that almost sounds like a sob. “Of course I forgive you, you fucking idiot.”

Lauren’s heart swells and she leans in to kiss Camila. It’s the first kiss they’ve had in months and it simultaneously feels achingly familiar and like it’s their first all over again. When they pull back, Camila buries her face into the crook of Lauren’s neck.

“You’re not allowed to do that ever again,” she mumbles into Lauren’s skin. “I’m not losing you again.”

“Never again,” Lauren vows. Life without Camila, she’s come to learn, isn’t much of a life at all.

-

Lauren really starts to get what Ally and Dinah were saying about Normani earlier. The girl is grilling Lauren, asking her everything under the sun to determine if she’s trustworthy.

Camila is probably more annoyed than Lauren is about it all.

(“Mani, I’ve literally known her my entire life.”

“Except for this time apart. And a lot can change in five months.”)

Lauren gets where it’s coming from – really, she does. After the world went to hell, it seemed like a lot of people’s humanity did as well. And they didn’t need to be infected.

Lauren’s met some of them even – a chilling experience that still haunted her dreams. The only reason that she even made it out alive is because they underestimated her, thought she was just some helpless girl all on her own.

When Normani finally lets up for the night (with a mistrustful squint of her eyes), Camila tugged Lauren to her room. They refused to be separated for even a moment. They were silent, almost reverent as they got ready for bed, moving around each other.

Ally peeked in and changed Lauren’s bandages – which led to a lot of fussing and worried looks from Camila – and smiled at the two girls, shutting the door behind her.

Lauren carefully arranged herself on her side. Camila mirrored her, their faces so close that their noses brushed.

“I love you,” Lauren says quietly.

“I love you, too,” Camila whispers.

“I’m so happy we found each other,” Lauren says. “I’ve been… lost without you.”

“We’re meant to be together,” Camila says, like it’s a simple fact. Something undeniable and irrefutable. “Not even the gods above could separate the two of us.”

Lauren’s lips curl into a grin. “Are you quoting One Direction lyrics at me?”

“They’re romantic!” Camila insists, her eyes wide.

This, Lauren thinks, is what she’s missed the most. She’s missed Camila’s dumb references and sparkly eyes and the way she always seems so earnest. Lauren’s heart is so full of love it feels like it’s spilling out of her.

“Dinah says we should become a band,” Lauren says. “Call ourselves One Direction.”

Camila wrinkles her nose. “They’re already a band though.”

“That’s what I said,” Lauren giggles.

“Who would we sell our music to?” Camila wonders. “Do zombies like pop?”

“I bet they like country,” Lauren says. “The worst genre for the worst audience.”

“I bet they’ll be really engaged,” Camila agrees. “I bet they’ll be groaning along in the audience.”

“The Zombie Band Perry,” Lauren says dramatically. “It has a nice ring to it.”

She and Camila maintain straight faces for another few seconds before they burst into giggles, curling into each other and losing their breath. Once they finally quiet, they just look at each other.

“I missed you,” Camila whispers. Her chin wobbles – she’s always been the crier between the two of them – and she sniffs. “I missed you so much.”

Lauren shuffles impossibly closer, their legs sliding together and their bodies fitting seamlessly against each other.

“Hey,” Lauren says gently, her nose brushing Camila’s. “It’s okay, we’re together now. We’re here and I’m never letting you go again.”

“Promise?” Camila’s voice is hushed and heavy. It’s a foolish thing to ask given the state of the world, where they’ve seen firsthand just how fleeting life can be.

But Lauren doesn’t mind being foolish. Not for Camila.

“Promise,” Lauren murmurs, brushing their lips together. “I promise.”

-

Dinah and Ally waste no time in poking fun at Lauren and Camila.

 “The cutest apocalyptic couple in the whole city,” Ally coos, a wicked gleam in her eyes as she reaches out to pinch Lauren’s cheek.

“Knock it off,” Lauren swipes at Ally’s hand, but she grins nonetheless. She’s missed teasing, chatting, joking – human interaction if she’s honest.

“And so dramatic,” Dinah adds delightedly. “That reunion was like something out of a Nicholas Sparks novel.”

“Only gay and not white,” Ally adds helpfully.

Camila chokes on her cheerios laughing. Lauren pounds on her back, fighting back her own laughter.

Normani strides into the room (because Lauren has learned that Normani doesn’t walk, she _strides_ ) and halts once she sees Lauren and Camila leaned up against each other.

“Morning, Normani,” Lauren says, trying to be as pleasant as she can without seeming fake or like she’s trying too hard.

(She _really_ hasn’t had a lot of human interaction lately.)

Normani very clearly ignores Lauren, grabs a protein bar, and leaves the room.

Camila actually looks mad and Lauren can tell before Camila even moves that she’s going to go after Normani to have a Talk (with a capital T).

“Camz,” Lauren murmurs, her voice a warning and a request all at once.

Camila rises to her feet and gives Lauren a challenging look that Lauren _knows_ she won’t win against.

“Alright,” Lauren holds her hands up in surrender.

Camila stalks out of the room and Lauren takes a moment to pray that she hasn’t just ruined this group simply by arriving.

Dinah lets out a low whistle. “Walz looks pissed.”

“She can be… protective,” Lauren admits wryly.

“So we can see,” Ally replies, amusement coloring her voice.

“Mani’ll come around,” Dinah says reassuringly. “She just wants to make sure we’re safe.”

Lauren’s figured that out already. It’s clear that Normani is compassionate – the fact that she let Lauren stay at all is a kindness most people wouldn’t extend.

Before Lauren can say anything else, Normani and Camila reappear, the latter looking smug.

“Lauren,” Normani says, her voice enough to make Lauren want to sit up straighter. “Come with me.”

-

Normani’s been squinting at her for an hour. Lauren tries not to squirm but, well, Normani’s gaze really is piercing.

“I don’t trust you,” Normani says abruptly.

“I hadn’t noticed,” Lauren mumbled to herself. She really needs to get out of that habit.

“I don’t care that Mila knew you or that you’ve got Dinah and Ally wrapped around your finger,” Normani goes on like Lauren never spoke. “No one is on their own for five months without some kind of repercussions.”

“Well, I like talking to myself and I’ve read more books in the last five months than I have in years,” Lauren says, swinging her legs. It’s almost thrilling to be sitting at the top of the hotel, nothing but air between her feet and the ground, hundreds of feet below.

“Isolation isn’t good for people,” Normani scowls.

Lauren refrains from mentioning the brief time where she wasn’t alone. “I always was more of an introvert,” she says easily. “Liked being by myself.”

She’s not feeling nearly as lighthearted as she’s pretending, but she _is_ trying to put Normani at ease. Though the girls all treated each other as equals, it was plain to see that Normani was the de facto leader. Getting on her bad side, regardless of how the other girls felt, wasn’t a good idea.

“You probably did dangerous things out there to survive. Those things could have taken their toll,” Normani says, growing increasingly frustrated.

Vivid images flash before Lauren’s eyes of her running, screaming, stabbing, terrified and bloody. She shakes her head, her voice deliberately airy she says, “I’d have lots of breaking and entering charges on my record, if that’s what you mean.”

Normani rises to her feet, looking down on Lauren imperiously and successfully making Lauren feel very small.

“Is this all a joke to you?” Normani demands.

“I’m just trying to lighten the mood,” Lauren says, because it’s the truth and she’s pretty sure Normani values honesty.

Normani actually, honest-to-god rolls her eyes at that. It’s kind of relieving.

“You don’t have my trust,” Normani says again.

“That’s pretty well established at this point.”

“But I guess it’s only fair to give you a chance to earn it.”

Lauren cocks an eyebrow. “How do you propose I do that?”

“You’re going on a supply run with me,” Normani says firmly.

Lauren decides it’s best not to argue.

-

(“You’re going out? I just got you back, Lauren.”

“Don’t worry so much, Camz.”

“You might have the worst luck of anyone I know, forgive my concern.”

“I think I have the best luck.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I found you again, didn’t I?”)

-

The streets are mostly empty. There are only rusted cars left.

When the virus first spread and wiped out entire cities, the National Guard rolled in and cleaned everything out. For a while, it looked like the world might have made it out alright.

Until it didn’t.

But it’s good news for any survivors in the city. They’d have been overwhelmed a long time ago if the majority of the infected hadn’t been swept away.

Lauren walks beside Normani in silence, her eyes sweeping the street. Growing complacent wouldn’t do – it would lead to death faster than anything else.

They’d already managed to gather some canned foods, and Lauren can admit that she very nearly cried when Normani found a jumbo pack of tampons. Normani, for all her mistrust, works efficiently with Lauren, even listening when Lauren advises against certain areas that she knows aren’t safe.

“So,” Normani begins slowly after they decided to turn around and head back to the hotel. “You’re the girl Camila lost.”

“It would seem so,” Lauren mutters, bringing up her hand to keep the sun out of her eye as she squints down the street.

“She was really torn up about it,” Normani goes on. “Cried for weeks.”

That just makes Lauren feel guilty. Her stomach sinks and emotions start to swell in her throat. Normani seems to be waiting for an answer, and all Lauren can offer is, “Oh?”

“Never told us your name. Called you _her_. Said things like _‘She_ and I used to do this,’ or ‘It was _her_ job to handle that.’ She never even told us how she lost you. We assumed you were dead,” Normani says, her tone deliberately casual.

“Almost was,” Lauren admits.

“Figured as much,” Normani nodded. “Why else would you leave someone behind?”

“I _didn’t_ ,” Lauren snaps, halting in her tracks. “I didn’t leave her behind. I was coming for her – I _came_ for her.” She clamps her mouth shut as the memory reclaims her. Stumbling back into the busted corner store and calling for Camila, _crying_ for Camila.

But Camila never answered.

“She wasn’t there when I got back,” Lauren says finally, her voice shaky. Normani is watching her very carefully. “But I kept looking for her. I was always looking. Right up until I met Dinah.”

Normani is silent for a moment, studying Lauren, and Lauren very abruptly realizes that Normani was just pushing her, testing her.

“Figured as much,” Normani nods then. “The way you looked at her when you got back – like you’d seen God himself. You’re a very loyal person, Lauren. All that concerns me is where your loyalties lie.”

It was a simple answer to Lauren, and one that obviously meant a lot to Normani.

“As long as Camila’s safe,” Lauren says without hesitation. “Everything I do is to keep her safe.”

Normani smiles then, small but genuine. “Selflessness is rare these days. It’s nice to see it, even if it is gonna get you killed.”

Lauren just shrugs because Normani is probably right.

They round the corner and freeze.

There’s a crowd of infected. Too many for Normani and Lauren to handle without serious risk.

Normani and Lauren don’t have to say anything. They exchange a furtive look and slowly start backing away. They slide into an alleyway, moving as silently as they can. There’s a fire escape that they can reach and move over rooftops, which will have to do for a few blocks until they can move on the ground without risking their lives.

A car alarm blares to life, nearly scaring Lauren right out of her skin. She and Normani freeze in panic for half a second, and that’s long enough for a nearby infected to shuffle into the alley. It’s lifeless, glazed eyes lock onto the fresh meat standing beneath the fire escape.

Lauren braces herself against the brick wall and links her hands together for Normani to step into. The infected seems almost mockingly unhurried while Lauren struggles to boost Normani up as high as she can. Once Normani heaves herself over the rail, Lauren tosses her bag and her axe up.

 _“Lauren,”_ Normani hisses, reaching down for her hand.

The infected is only feet away now and Lauren knows she’s not hauling herself up the ladder in time. With a weird sense of déjà vu (and mild incredulity that anything about this situation should feel familiar), Lauren slid the knife Dinah gave her out of her belt and drove it into the infected’s skull, yelping when its lifeless body still brought her to the ground.

Lauren could hear the shuffling and groaning that meant more were moving into the alley, attracted by the still blaring car alarm.

Lauren wasn’t going to make it up to Normani. Her brain reeled for some kind of way out of this alive. An idea – a stupid one, a _dangerous_ one – popped into Lauren’s mind. She gripped the dead infected in her lap and pulled it completely over her body, shielding herself entirely.

 _“Lauren,”_ Normani’s voice floated down, and Lauren gave a tiny thumbs up before falling still.

They were agonizingly slow sometimes. Although, Lauren supposes, they do have all the time in the world. She struggles not to gag, the smell of the half rotted corpse on top of her making her eyes water.

An infected bumps her foot and Lauren has to force her muscles to go limp, letting her foot bounce back and forth like any other corpse would. The one that bumped her slows to a stop, right next to her. She can hear its rattling breath and grinding teeth and she tries desperately not to shudder.

Just when she’s afraid the infected has seen through her ruse, another one bumps into it, and they all continue along.

Lauren’s not sure how long she lies there, but it’s enough that her arm has fallen asleep, pinned between her body and the infected’s. There’s a crick in her neck and she’s sure she’s soaked in blood and other wet things a rotting corpse might excrete. The car alarm is still going and Lauren thinks that another five minutes pinned where she is might drive her crazier than five months of solitude.

After what seems like an eternity, Normani says, “We’re clear.”

Lauren doesn’t hesitate to shove the body off of her, coughing and spitting to try and get the scent out of her mouth.

Normani drops to the ground with ease, holding their things. Her eyes are wide as she takes Lauren in.

“That was insane,” Normani breathes. “How did you know that’d work?”

“Didn’t,” Lauren wheezes, spitting again. “But they don’t pay attention to other infected, dead or alive – figured it was worth a shot.”

Normani continues to stare as Lauren scowls down at her ruined clothes, doused in guts and blood.

“Well, if impulsive shit like that is what kept you alive all that time on your own, I’m keeping you around,” Normani says.

Lauren can’t help but feel a little pride well up in her. Gaining Normani’s trust and approval probably wasn’t an easy task, and yet she’d done it in a day. All it took was her nearly dying.

As Lauren yanks her knife out of the dead infected, Normani says, “Just wait ‘til I tell Dinah what you did. She’ll probably try to kiss you right then and there.”

“Camila wouldn’t like that,” Lauren mutters. Then her eyes go wide and she gasps as she whips around to Normani. “Please don’t tell Camila!”

Normani stares at her for a few seconds, then presses a hand to her mouth to prevent her laughter from echoing down the alley.

“Took on a group of zombies and you’re scared of your tiny girlfriend,” Normani snorts when they set out for the hotel.

Lauren has nothing to defend herself with because Normani is absolutely right.

-

The cold seems to come all at once.

Normani and Dinah have to raid a department store and stock up on coats and jackets after their breaths start to fog in front of them. In only two or three weeks, the temperature has dropped nearly fifty degrees.

“Might snow this week,” Ally says lightly like it’s no concern.

“This is why all the ancient civilizations were in the fuckin’ warmest places on earth,” Lauren complains in reply.

“Feels almost like we’re having a second apocalypse,” Dinah jokes.

“It’s not _that_ cold,” Ally rolls her eyes

The nights aren’t as bad when Lauren can curl up with Camila under a mountain of blankets and cuddle. Along with other… activities.

(“Such a burden,” Camila sighs dramatically. “I have to have sex with my super hot girlfriend to get warm.”

“No fair,” Dinah whines. “You guys can’t be having sex _every night_.”

“Oh, leave them alone,” Ally says. “Besides, it’s not like they have to worry about getting knocked up.”

“Gay perks,” Lauren agrees.)

It’s a harsh winter.

Their supply runs are a little different now. They go out and collect gas, wood, tinder, anything they can burn for warmth. All the extra clothing they wear is a little cumbersome when they go out, but it does make it harder for the infected to bite through. Also, the cold helps mask the smell of the dead. When it’s hot, corpses would rot away and the stench would stretch forever. When it was cold, Lauren could almost pretend she wasn’t walking past a pile of dead bodies.

They go through a lot of their stocked supplies as the weeks go on. Their supply runs slow down massively due to the cold and the fact that they’ve ransacked everything nearby. Normani doesn’t seem too concerned though.

“We did this last winter, too. It’s why we stockpiled so much a few weeks ago, to make it through the winter,” she says.

“We’re hibernating,” Camila says cheerfully. “Like bears!”

Dinah snorts and Normani sighs, her mouth curling up despite herself. “Yes, Mila. Like bears. Anyway, we’ll have enough until it warms up and then we can go further out.”

The idea of moving seemed off the table. Understandably so, as the hotel gave them plenty of water and a well defended home. Also, Lauren’s grown kind of attached to the peeling wallpaper and ugly paintings on the wall. The stained carpet was much warmer than most places Lauren’s been. She likes the hotel.

The snow eventually comes and pretty much restricts the girls to the hotel for a few weeks. They keep a fire burning non-stop, breaking furniture from other floors to keep it going. They try to cut back on how much they eat to preserve their food storage – it’s not like they’re using much energy anyway, locked up and spending the days reading and huddled together. Their water supply freezes up, but they’ve got plenty of snow to boil.

“Happy four-month anniversary,” Ally tells Lauren one morning.

Lauren blinks, confused for a moment. Dinah found her in late October. It’s late February now, and the snow seems to have finally stopped falling, melting away.

“I didn’t realize,” Lauren murmurs. When she’d been alone, time crawled by achingly slow. Lauren could – and did – keep track of each day that passed. Now, together with Camila and the other girls, time passes easily. She doesn’t dread waking up and spending her day in solitude.

“I can’t believe I’m happy in the zombie apocalypse,” Lauren tells Normani one day.

“If you weren’t happy at least some of the time, what would even be the point of surviving the apocalypse?” Normani replies, not looking up from her book.

Lauren watches Camila laugh at something Dinah said, warmth filling her at the sound. “I guess you’re right.”

Normani scoffs. “Of course I am.”

-

They start going out for supplies in threes instead of twos.

“We’re going further out,” Camila says reasonably. “Better to have more back-up.”

Really, though, it’s just four of them that rotate through supply run duties. Ally hasn’t left the hotel since Lauren arrived months ago. One day, when the other three are out on a supply run, Lauren asks Ally about it.

Ally wrinkles her nose. “It’s just not for me. They go out for supplies and I make sure everything stays up and running here.”

“But what about before you had the hotel?” Lauren presses. “What did you do then?”

“It’s not like I’ve never killed one, Lo,” Ally rolls her eyes. “I just don’t like to do it if I don’t have to. Plus, have you ever tried to stab something in the head when it’s a foot taller than you?”

Dinah bursts into the room a moment later, clutching a box of hair dye victoriously.

“Make me blonde again!” she demands.

Ally laughs and agrees to help.

“She was very excited when she found that,” Camila says when she walks in with Normani on her heels. “ _Very_ excited.”

“Hi,” Lauren grins as Camila slides right into her space.

“Hi,” Camila says back, leaning in for a kiss.

“Anyway,” Normani sighs, walking after Dinah and Ally.

Lauren and Camila laugh, wandering off together.

Another wonderful thing about the hotel – it’s exceedingly old, especially the lower floors. There are plenty of passage-ways, compartments, rooms that aren’t normally accessible unless staff opened them.

“It says ‘staff only’, Camz,” Lauren says sternly as she gestures to the sign on the small door.

Camila twirls a set of keys around on her fingers. “You gonna tell on me, Jauregui?”

“Maybe, maybe not. Depends on if we find something interesting.”

The service stairwells are nothing like the grand staircase that goes up the first few floors. They’re narrow and dingy and probably no cleaner now than they were a few years ago.

They stumble through a door and into an office. The furniture is nice, newer than what’s in a lot of the hotel, and the name plate proudly declares _Thomas Miller, Hotel Manager._

“Now you’re breaking into the boss’ office!” Lauren cries.

Camila squeaks. “Me? _You’re_ the one opened the door.”

“Mr. Miller is going to fire you for sure,” Lauren shakes her head. “How will we support out children, Camila?”

“I didn’t realize we had kids,” Camila snorts.

“I’m pregnant,” Lauren says seriously.

They stare at each other in silence for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. They start to go through the shelves and drawers almost habitually, searching for anything of use. Lauren picks up a picture frame from the desk and wipes the dust away. It’s a woman and two little boys, twins, Lauren thinks. They look happy.

“They might be okay,” Camila says softly, looking over Lauren’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Lauren nods. “They might.” But they probably aren’t.

“Oh my god. _Oh_ my _god_ ,” Camila gasps from a few steps away.

“What?” Lauren drops the frame, her hand going to the knife she always keeps on her belt.

Camila’s holding up two bottles of vodka, completely full and unopened. Her eyes are shining and she’s got a wicked smile on her face. “We’re having a party tonight.”

-

“I deeply regret having a party last night,” Camila groans, her face pressed against the table.

Lauren chuckles and rubs between Camila’s shoulder blades.

“Well, _I_ had _lots_ of fun,” Dinah declares, cheerfully shoving oatmeal in her mouth.

“Oh we know, Dinah Jane,” Normani mutters, scowling into her instant coffee. “Ally, you alive?”

Ally grunts from underneath the table, where she’s curled up on her side.

“Allyson is a party animal,” Lauren said, amusement rising in her. “Who’d have thought?”

“Fuck off…” rises from beneath the table.

“How come you’re not hungover?” Camila complains. “You drank with the rest of us.”

“Hydration is key, Camz,” Lauren says knowingly. “Plus I’ve always been better at holding my liquor than you.”

“Seeing as you and Dinah are the only ones not hungover,” Normani begins, resentment coloring her voice, “you can go and scout our next area.”

Their map of the city is spread out on the other end of the table, writing and markings all over it to identify what they have and haven’t done. Camila whines when Lauren moves away, but she stays pressed to the table, and Ally doesn’t move from where she’s still curled up.

“We’ve worked our way through most of these areas,” Normani squints down, gesturing to the marked off areas around the hotel. There’s only a few places left that are close by that have gone unchecked. “We should move into here,” she points at one of the few blank spots within miles of the area. When Lauren reads the street names, her heart kicks up another notch.

“No,” she says quickly, her mouth going dry. “We can’t – we shouldn’t go there.”

Normani looks startled to say the least, and Dinah’s eyeing Lauren with concern. Even Camila lifts her head to watch the conversation.

“Why not?” Normani asks. She’s not challenging Lauren; she just wants to know why.

“It’s not safe,” Lauren says immediately, because that’s what her whole body screams when she thinks about that area. _Danger, danger, danger._

“Too many infected?” Dinah asks. “We can take a few guns, try and stick to the rooftops.”

“No,” Lauren shakes her head. “It’s not the infected. It’s the people.”

Silence fills the area.

“What do you mean ‘people’?” Ally asks, appearing out from beneath the table.

“There are people there,” Lauren says. “And they’re not… We just need to leave them alone. It’s better if they don’t know we’re here.”

Lauren stares down at the map, her ears ringing with memories. She has to convince Normani, she _has_ to keep them away.

“Okay,” Normani says.

“What?” Lauren stammers, taken aback.

“I said, okay. If you think we should stay away, then we will. I trust your judgement,” Normani says slowly.

Lauren blinks for a second. “Oh,” she says.

Normani rolls her eyes fondly. “Gear up and keep going where we were yesterday. Keep Hansen in line.”

“Rude,” Dinah scoffs, but she winks at Lauren. “C’mon, Lauser, let’s go do some scouting.”

-

“Wanna talk about it?” Camila asks quietly. The candlelight flickers across her face almost ominously.

“About what?” Lauren replies. She’s really just delaying the inevitable, because she knows Camila’s going to pry her feelings out of her like she always does.

“Lauren…”

Lauren sucks in a deep breath through her nose and tries to ignore how shakily it comes back out. She’s spent a long time carefully shoving any memories of those people into the very back of her mind where she could ignore them and pretend none of it ever happened.

“Ninety-seven days,” she says finally.

“What?”

“It was ninety-seven days after you… after we were separated. And I was searching for you, sweeping out around the city,” Lauren says. “There was a group of men. They had a lot of guns, the huge, assault rifle kind, not just pistols off of dead cops like we have.”

Camila’s eyes are wide and she’s very still. Lauren debates exactly how much she should tell her anyway, because even though it happened months ago, she knows Camila will worry terribly.

“I… tried to hide from them, because groups of men are scary enough when they don’t have guns and the world hasn’t ended,” Lauren jokes weakly, but Camila doesn’t smile. “They dragged me out of my hiding place and talked about taking me back to their camp. One man said he was hungry and he was glad they caught fresh meat.”

“Oh my god,” Camila murmurs, her hand going to cover her mouth. “Were they really…?”

“I don’t know if they really were going to eat me,” Lauren says, her voice level. “But I wasn’t going to risk it. I don’t think they expected me to fight back after they tied me up, but I managed to get ahold of a knife and I got away.”

She doesn’t mention the fact that she’d had to physically fight a man off with her knife, mangling his hand when he reached out to grab her.

Camila folds herself into Lauren’s arms and takes a shaky breath. “You’re okay, though. You’re here now.”

Lauren hums in agreement, running a hand along Camila’s back. “Yeah. I’m here.”

 -

“I can’t believe I’m about to die in a strip club,” Dinah says to Lauren as they desperately attempt to keep the doors from opening and allowing the infected to flood in.

“We’re _not_ going to die in this strip club!” Normani cries from the bar, fumbling through the shelves to find something of use. She drags out a half full bottle of Bacardi and a rag with wide eyes. “These’ll do,” she decides.

“Oh, have you finished shopping?” Dinah asks sarcastically. “We don’t want to rush you or anything.”

“Open the doors on my count,” Normani orders.

“Are you crazy?” Lauren demands just when the infected give a particularly hard push that nearly knocks her over. “There’s gotta be, like, a dozen or more!”

“Just trust me!” Normani snaps. “On three. One… two… three!”

Lauren and Dinah book it over to Normani, who lights the rag stuffed in the bottle and throws it at the infected. It bursts and sets them all aflame, but they’re still mostly unhindered.

“Great, now they’re gonna kill us while they’re on fire!” Dinah yells.

Lauren axes the head of the one closest to her and staggers backwards. The fire actually seems to be disorienting to the infected, and if they move quickly they can carve a path out.

“Let’s move!” Normani commands, and the three of them fall into a three-point formation to get out.

The smoke and the smell brings tears to Lauren’s eyes, and she tries not to breathe in too much. The last the she needs is to get infected via burning flesh. When they get out into the blessedly cool, clear air outside, the three of them sprint down the street. They run until they can’t hear any of the infected.

Dinah sits down on the curb. “That fucking _sucked_ ,” she manages through her gasps.

Lauren would agree with her, but she can’t even talk through the stitch in her side.

“It was a close call,” Normani agrees. “ _Too_ close. We need to be more careful next time.”

Dinah and Lauren nod, and Normani pauses for a second.

“Don’t tell Ally and Camila,” she decides. “They’ll probably explode on us.”

Lauren manages a snort because that’s definitely true.

 -

“I spy with my little eye, something tall and grey.”

“Camila, you can’t just pick skyscrapers every time,” Normani says, rolling her eyes.

“Why not? That’s pretty much all there is,” Camila replies.

“You could always switch it up to the dead bodies on the ground,” Lauren suggests.

“Cheery,” Camila wrinkles her nose.

Lauren laughs. Ever since she told the girls about the group that they needed to avoid two weeks ago, she’d felt like a weight has been lifted off her chest. She didn’t even realize how scared she was that the other girls might run into those men. Now that the girls have been told, all of them have been avoiding going anywhere near that area.

 Normani gestures up at a grocery store that’s boarded up. “Might check in here, it could still have something,” she suggests.

There actually are quite a few canned goods left in the store. They’d be eating a lot of canned vegetables, but it was better than nothing.

“We shouldn’t take too much,” Lauren says as they pile the cans away. “If we run into trouble, I don’t want us to get weighed down. We can always come back.”

A gunshot echoes from outside the store.

The three girls immediately drop to the floor, silent. Voices start to float into the store, definitely men.

Lauren nearly jumps a foot in the air when Normani’s hand falls to her shoulder, Normani and Camila inching towards the staff break room a few feet away.

When they get in, their backs pressed up against the door, they only sit in silence for a moment.

“What do we do?” Camila asks, her voice barely a whisper.

“Let’s just hold on a second,” Normani almost snaps. Lauren doesn’t blame her, not with how hard her heart is pounding right now. “We don’t even know what we’re dealing with, _who_ we’re dealing with.”

There’s a window in the door above their heads. Lauren eases onto her feet and lifts herself just enough to peek out.

There are several men that she can see, four, maybe five – definitely too many for the girls to take, especially with the heavy weaponry they’ve got. They look familiar in a way that makes Lauren’s stomach twist anxiously. One of the men raises his hand to point something out and Lauren’s knees give out abruptly.

“What?” Normani demands. “What did you see?”

Lauren can feel the blood drain from her face. They were so _careful,_ they made _sure_ that they wouldn’t come into contact with that group, but apparently they’ve been sweeping out.

“Lauren,” Camila’s voice is low, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

The man didn’t have three of his fingers. Because Lauren cut them off after he tried to yank her down from the fence she was climbing. And he was here again.

“We have to go,” Lauren whispers. She sounds afraid, even to her own ears. “We have to get away from them.”

Normani and Camila both stare at her with wide eyes. They’ve pieced it together, surely, because why else would Lauren be so afraid?

The only problem is that they’ve effectively trapped themselves. The only way out of the room they’re in is back the way they came, right through the group of men.

“Okay,” Normani breathes, thinking hard. “Okay, okay, okay.”

An idea pops into Lauren’s mind. It’s not a good one. Camila will hate it. Normani will hate it. Lauren’s not very fond of it herself. But it’ll have to do.

“We’ll split up,” Lauren says.

Camila reels back like she’s just been slapped, and it’s only then that Lauren realizes that she repeated exactly what she said the first time they were separated.

“What?” Normani demands, looking between them.

 _“No,”_ Camila growls. “We are _not_ doing this again.”

“It’s the best option,” Lauren insists. “They already know who I am – I can _distract_ them.”

“And then they catch you and fucking _eat_ you!” Camila snaps in a harsh whisper.

“Whoa,” Normani interrupts. “You’re not saying what I think you’re saying, are you?”

“I go out there, distract them, you two are home free,” Lauren says reasonably.

“And what if you get caught?” Camila’s eyes are shiny and this really is all too familiar.

“I got away from them once,” Lauren says confidently. “I can do it again.”

It’s more bravado than anything else because Lauren is almost certain that if she’s caught again, her chances of escaping are very slim.

 _“You are not doing this,”_ Camila hisses. “Mani, tell her she’s not doing this.”

Silence falls. Normani is watching Lauren with sad eyes. She knows how this is going to play out just as much as Lauren does. Camila will be livid and she’ll hate them – but she’ll be alive.

“If you die,” Normani says, her voice thick, “I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“No,” Camila shakes her head. She knows she’s lost. _“No.”_

“I’ll be right back,” Lauren says, then she and Camila both wince. “I _will_. I came back before and I’ll do it again.”

She sheds her back, handing her axe to Normani (she’s really fond of the weapon and she wants it back later) and the key dangling from her neck. Her mind is racing as she prepares to run out.

Getting caught is very likely. And if she gets caught, Lauren doesn’t know what’ll happen. They’ll probably notice how clean she is, how well-fed, and assume that she’s got shelter. But Lauren will be damned before she gives up the other girls’ location.

“Once you hear them leave the store, make a break for it,” Lauren orders. “Don’t stop running until you’re back to the hotel. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

She turns to look at Camila and her heart falls into her stomach. Camila’s eyes are bright and shiny with desperation. Everything is just like it was.

“You promised,” Camila whispers. “You _promised me.”_

“I know,” Lauren murmurs. “I’m sorry.”

“Lauren,” Camila says, her voice serious and heavy. “If you do this, I’ll never forgive you.”

Lauren looks at Camila a little longer. She studies the slope of her nose, the shape of her eyes, the angry purse of her lips.

“As long as you’re safe,” Lauren says. Then she opens the door.

 -

Lauren’s body is basically one giant bruise. It’s the middle of the night and she’s hiding in a car and she has no weapon and no idea where she is.

It could be worse, she supposes.

The men who captured her didn’t think she’d have a blade tucked into her shoe, which let her cut herself free after a couple of days where they tried to figure out where her shelter was.

The razor blade wouldn’t be much help against an infected, though. She’s been gone maybe three or four days. She needs to get back to Camila.

The infected don’t see her in her car with a blanket draped over her to keep the chill away. When the sun rises, Lauren sets out, armed with a piece of rebar she finds on the ground.

The beatings she’s been taking have caught up with her, and by the time she recognizes where she is, she’s ready to lay down and not get back up.

But she needs to get back to Camila.

It takes her all day to reach the hotel again. When she gets there, she realizes that she doesn’t even have a key to get in. But the fence isn’t very tall, and it was made to keep out infected, not people. Lauren hears a few telltale snarls from behind her and the decision is made.

As soon as she gets to the top, the infected rattle the fence and send her careening to the ground. The infected push at the fence and Lauren scrambles painfully to her feet, moving through the narrow path and tumbling to the floor once more.

She’s safe. Camila is right upstairs and Lauren’s safe and she’s going to just maybe lay here for a minute, just to catch her breath.

A gun cocks loudly. “Sit up, hands above your head.”

It’s Normani’s voice. Lauren’s sure she’s unrecognizable – her jacket she was wearing is gone, her hair is matted and awry, and she’s positively covered in her own blood. Her jaw and her lungs ache so terribly she can’t try to reply.

“I’m not asking again,” Normani snaps.

Lauren allows herself to be annoyed at Normani’s impatience (she thinks she’s earned it) and slowly pulls herself to her knees.

The moment she lays eyes on Normani, Normani drops her gun and rushes forward with a gasp.

“Lauren?” Dinah appears from behind Normani, her eyes wide. “I… Camila, I’ll go get Camila.”

“Tell Ally to get the medical supplies ready,” Normani barks after Dinah, who is positively _hauling_ it up the stairs.

“I can’t believe you’re okay,” Normani says.

Lauren gives her a look while Normani starts to help her to her feet.

“Well,” Normani amends, “alive, at least.”

The moment Lauren is upright, her head starts swimming and her knees buckle dangerously. Her vision starts to tunnel and Lauren knows with absolute certainty that she is about to black out.

“Whoa, Laur – hold on, stay awake!” Normani’s voice fades with each word as Lauren crumbles downward again.

The last thing she remembers is Camila appearing over her like an angel come to take her away.

 -

“I’m still angry at you.”

Lauren is mostly conscious when Camila speaks to her.

“I know,” she mutters, because if she’s sure about anything right now, it’s that Camila was _pissed_.

“You promised you wouldn’t let me go again,” Camila says, her voice weak. “You _promised.”_

“I’m sorry I worried you,” Lauren replies. “Plan worked, didn’t it? Kept you safe.”

“Lauren, I don’t want to stick around in this world if you’re not here with me.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true,” Camila says. “You’re my family. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Lauren murmurs. “Which is why I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”

Camila huffs. “I know I’ll never be able to convince you to do anything otherwise. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to kick your ass as soon as you can stand up without fainting.”

“I really am sorry for worrying you,” Lauren says.

“But not for doing it.”

“No. Not for doing it.”

 _“God_ ,” Camila laughs suddenly, reaching up to wipe away her tears with one hand while her other still clutched Lauren’s on the bed. “Lauren, you can’t keep doing this to me, I’ll die of stress before the infected can even get me at this rate.”

“With me as your personal bodyguard, I guess the universe thought it’s only fair to have you in _some_ kind of danger,” Lauren jokes.

Camila shakes her head, a smile curling on her face despite herself. “You’re so ridiculous.”

“But you love me,” Lauren whispers happily.

“I do,” Camila nods. “God help me, I really do.”

Lauren grins, her heart swelling in her chest. The world has ended and her body aches and those men are still out there. But it’s all okay, because she has Camila with her.

Camila reaches out and brushes her thumb across Lauren’s bruised, cut cheek.

“But I’m still mad at you,” she says.

Lauren doesn’t mind.

**Author's Note:**

> what city is this supposed to be in?? a good question. why doesn't this fic make any sense literally at all??? another really good question. i don't have any answers. 
> 
> you should hit me up on tumblr at sadbirdsquad i'm always ready to suffer over this band


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